


Hard to believe it (it's not over tonight)

by ABitNotGoodieBag



Category: Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Didn't Know They Were Dating, Idiots in Love, M/M, Morosexual Sam WIlson, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Sharon Carter helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABitNotGoodieBag/pseuds/ABitNotGoodieBag
Summary: Sharon really cannot believe how stupid these two can be.orThree times sam took Bucky out and one time Bucky took Sam out.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	1. one

Bucky hadn’t had a lot of time to himself in the city. At least not a lot of leisure time. Yeah, he lived with Sam in DC now, and it was a different type of city than New York (every city was a different type than the Big Apple) but he just hadn’t found the time to wander. SHIELD kept him busy and on top of that Sam seemed to attract more trouble than even Steve did. But Sam had made Bucky promise that he wouldn’t make any plans for the weekend. Bucky, not one to have any sort of social life at all and definitely not one to miss anything Sam related, had very easily agreed.

Now it was Saturday and they were in Sam’s car at 10 am on their way to god knows where but Sam had a little grin on his face that wouldn’t budge so Bucky figured wherever it was would be fun. Sam looked as great as he normally did although he did seem to have changed up his usual cologne for something much less body-wash and much more designer. Bucky liked that change immensely. Bucky stared out of the window basking in Sam’s scent until Sam parked at the White House (being Captain America came with all sorts of parking perks it seemed).

The two made their way uptown on foot, Sam not giving any hint as to where they were going. They smiled and greeted everyone as they passed, stopping to take photos and sign autographs when asked. They ended up in front of a cafe on P street (And Bucky just thinks that DC has too many letters in their streets, New York knows better than to use the whole alphabet). He and Sam were quickly escorted to a table and Bucky’s mouth watered as he stared at the menu.

“Nice place, birdy.” Bucky said, appreciative. Sam answered with a broad smile and ordered them a pitcher of mimosas. Bucky raised his eyebrow and Sam just replied that it wasn't a real brunch without mimosas.

“Brunch? Is that what they’re calling it?” Bucky asked.

Sam smiled again, “Don’t tell me you didn’t have brunch in the stone ages.”

“I’ll have you know Sammy,” Bucky said, leaning forward. “We invented brunch. I just never had enough money. Brunch was for the rich folk, not us beat joes.”

Sam looked like he didn’t quite know how to respond to that so Bucky took pity on him. “Awful nice though. I think I like brunch.”

Sam’s smile softened and Bucky was going to turn into a tomato if Sam didn’t stop looking at him with those pretty brown eyes. He was spared the embarrassing blush by the arrival of their drinks. Once they had ordered their meals (breakfast tacos for Bucky, shaksuka for Sam) they each raised their flutes in a toast and drank down their first mimosas in one gulp. It was their ritual everywhere they went, the first round always went straight to the head (Bucky appreciated that Sam kept to tradition even at 10 in the morning) and the rest were to be enjoyed however they wished.

Their food quickly arrived and Sam spent the first half of their meal entertaining Bucky with tales of his niece’s tremendous talent at gymnastics. Sam liked to think she likes the uneven bars so she can feel the joy of swinging back and forth through the air like her most-favoritest uncle. Bucky loved Kayla, and had been known to receive a beautifully drawn picture whenever Sam came back from visiting her and Bucky couldn’t make it.

Sam was finishing up the last morsels of his breakfast when Bucky decided to ask about their itinerary for the day. Bucky didn’t receive any verbal response, only another cryptic smile from Sam. He caught their server’s eye and quickly motioned for the check and refilled both of their flutes with the last of their second pitcher of mimosas. They both knocked the drinks back in one gulp just as their server approached with the bill. Sam handed his card over and soon they were on their way back out onto the streets of DC.

Sam led them down the street for a bit before turning down what appeared to be a residential block. Bucky’s confusion only increased, were they picking someone else up? He thought Sam said it was gonna be a day for just the two of them, but maybe he misunderstood.

“Yes! It’s been updated!” Sam cheered as he stopped in front of a brownstone adorned with a strange collection of...dolls? There were Barbies, Kens, Kiras, and Skippers in and around a small pond. They were clearly ready for thanksgiving (if their pilgrim clothing didn’t give them away, two naked dolls in a compromising position with an inflatable turkey was an obvious indication).

“What the hell?” Bucky asked as Sam laughed.

“It’s the Barbie Pond! It’s a staple of the city.” Sam explained as he dropped down into a squat on the sidewalk to inspect all of the dolls. Bucky was momentarily distracted from the absurd installation by the curve of Sam’s ass as he leaned forward to see if any more figures were hidden among the artfully placed fall gourds (Bucky will absolutely die on the hill of Sam’s ass being the  _ real _ America’s ass, Steve  _ wished _ ). Bucky startled when Sam suddenly turned to look up at him and quickly focused on the little pond. Upon closer inspection there was truly a lot going on. The squash and pumpkins were adorned with buckled hats and feathered headbands. Naked dolls with fall-themed appliqués strategically placed mingled with figures dressed in fringed suede and feather trimmings. There were footballs topped with naked torsos coming out of the water. Bucky was completely engrossed in it.

“Why is this here?” He asked as he bent down a bit to look closer, following Sam’s lead. “Is this a weird neighborhood thing people do now?”

“Well, no one really knows why the owner started it, but eventually people started donating the dolls and it changes pretty frequently to celebrate all sorts of occasions. Last week it was decorated for the election. I like to swing by sometimes to see what these rascals are up to.”

Bucky smiled down at him, “Only you, Tweety.”

Sam’s answering smile sent all kinds of fluttering animals to Bucky’s stomach and he had to cough to cover the blush that was surely taking over his entire head.

“Well, now that you’ve met the dolls, it’s time for you to meet the stars.” Sam said, rising to his feet. 

They strolled down the street, continuing their leisurely pace, getting stopped just as frequently as they had earlier to take photos with the public. Sam is particularly amused when a group of girls accuse him of trying to turn Bucky into a DC man. 

“I’m doing my best, but we’re both New Yorkers, through and through.” Sam glances toward Bucky with a grin, “Right, Buck?”

Bucky just nodded with a stupid gooey look on his face and the girls laughed and took pictures of the two of them striking silly poses. Sam made them promise to tag them in the photos so they could see them later and the girls giggled as they agreed.

They meandered along for another half hour, Bucky’s curiosity only growing stronger. Sam finally came to a stop in front of another brick building, this one proclaiming itself to be a wax museum. Bucky was confused, but he dutifully followed Sam inside and was greeted with a larger-than-life figure of Steve Rogers in the entrance, complete with a giant shield imitating the one currently resting in the trunk of Sam’s car.

“They’re a little behind, aren’t they?” Bucky asked, turning to see Sam’s reaction. 

Sam ducked his head a bit, “Well, Mr. Freeze, that’s actually one of the reasons we’re here.”

Before he could finish, a woman in a chic, red business suit came out to greet them.

“Hi! I’m Angie and you guys are right on time, Perfect!” She motioned for them to follow her down the hall next to the ticket counter. “We’ll just need a few minutes of your time. Thank you for sending those scans in earlier, that makes our work much easier. All we need to do now is decide on the final poses and costumes.” She ushered them through an unmarked door where various photography equipment was set up.

Bucky looked at Sam bewildered. “Measurements? Poses?” He whispered as Angie fiddled with the lighting and backdrop.

“We’re gonna be immortalized in the museums.” Sam murmured back. “All the new Avengers are getting a figure made, but the DC office so graciously allowed us to come in a bit earlier than everyone else, so we don’t have to spend all day being photographed and measured and stared at.”

Bucky immediately felt a stab of disappointment.  _ This _ was why Sam had made him keep the weekend clear. Of course it wasn’t because-- Bucky cut that line of thinking immediately. He was not in place to think those thoughts, he was too exposed in public. Bucky was then hit with a secondary rush of emotion. He knew that he was a part of SHIELD and the Avengers, but to know that his figure would stand next to the likes of Sam Wilson, Carol Danvers and James Rhodes was humbling. Bucky knew, intellectually, that he was not responsible for his actions as the Winter Soldier, but humans aren’t rational and it was far easier to just always wait for the other shoe to drop rather than open himself up and accept that people really did see him as more than a tool of violence.

Sam saw the pensive little line that formed as Bucky furrowed his brows. “If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to, I’m sure they can make do with the measurements Fury sent over.”

Bucky shook his head, “No, I’m just surprised is all. Didn’t think anyone would wanna see my ugly mug.”

Sam rolled his eyes at that. Bucky knew damn well he was a looker. “ _ Sure _ .” Sam said sarcastically. “And those magazine covers for Rolling Stone and Men’s Health were what?”

Bucky laughed. “Well we can’t all be on Time, Cosmo  _ and _ GQ in one month, can we Sammy?”

Angie laughed at that and Bucky flashed her a charming smile. “I’m ready for you guys,” She said, gesturing toward the white backdrop. They both moved to stand in front of one of the two cameras set up. She quickly coached them through the initial photos for reference of their individual features.

“Now that the references are taken, we just need to get you two into some simple stances that will fit in with the rest of the Avengers when your figures are arranged as a group. Now Mr. Wilson, as Captain America, you will naturally be in the center of these groupings, so Mr. Barnes will have to decide where he’d like to be in relation.”

“On his right.” Bucky said at the same time Sam did. They looked at each other, and laughed. The laughs gave way to soft smiles and Angie could not stop smiling at them. Sam chuckled a bit more before striking a silly pose and said, “Put us where you need us, Angie.”

She had Sam stand with his left foot forward, with his right arm bent as if he were carrying the shield. His chin was raised and his smile was broad and blinding. He looked every inch the hero to Bucky, who couldn’t wait to see the final product. Bucky didn’t really pay much attention to his own pose, arms slightly out, right foot forward, no smile only a cold glare (Sam liked to call it his own Blue Steel, but Bucky knew it was definitely his Magnum).

Angie finished capturing what she needed and thanked them both for being great models as she led them back down the hall. Sam moved to the ticket line and Bucky looked at him in confusion. “I thought Angie said we were finished?” 

Sam looked at Bucky strangely, “With the model part, yeah, but we haven’t taken selfies with all the presidents yet.” 

Bucky smiled, glad that his time with Sam wasn’t yet over. Sam paid for their tickets, along with the next 20 or so people (Captain America was  _ such _ a nice man) before boarding a sizable elevator with them. Sam and Bucky graciously took a photo with the whole group as soon as they got off the elevator on the top floor.

The two men made their way through the various scenes, taking the most ridiculous pictures that they could think of. They gave presidents bunny ears and pretended to photobomb (and actually did in a few cases) the various figures. They were approaching the gift shop when Sam’s phone rang with the telltale SHIELD tone.

Sam answered the call and his face fell immediately and his shoulders drooped a bit. He grunted in the affirmative twice before hanging up with a grumpy look.

“We’ve been summoned. Some asshole is trying to blow up the White House with the president inside,  _ again _ .”

Bucky sighed. Now that they were based near the Capitol, crazies had been threatening lawmakers much more frequently (on the bright side, New York was actually down on their terroristic acts for once). It very rarely actually required anything out of them, but being based where they were meant being called on. Bucky shook off his displeasure that their day was being cut short on account of some stupid asshole who wouldn’t know how to take down a world leader if his life depended on it (unfortunately it just might). He turned to follow Sam out into the waning afternoon sun and they both slipped into the black SUV idling on the curb.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend continues and so does Bucky's obliviousness.

The standoff had lasted 15 hours and Bucky was irritated that they wouldn’t let him or Sam inside to try to take the guy out, instead they just sat in the room with a bunch of feds and secret service agents and took up space. Getting home just as dawn was breaking after sitting in a conference room with incompetent assholes was the icing on the shittiness of the second half of his Saturday.

He and Sam had both fallen into their respective beds without so much as a goodnight, leaving Bucky feeling slightly bereft. Luckily, Sam asked him to come out with him later that afternoon as they both stumbled blearily into the kitchen a few minutes after noon the following day. He’d assumed that the whacko from the White House had put an end to the weekend activities. 

They ended up heading out to catch an early dinner at a hole-in-the-wall barbecue restaurant that had Bucky almost moaning around the tender brisket. Sam laughed and asked if he’d tried a _truly_ spicy barbecue sauce before (knowing damn well Bucky couldn’t resist proving that he could take the heat).

The sauce had looked so innocuous, just a generic, clouded squeeze bottle adorned with a sticker of a sweating pig, the brown insides just waiting to unleash their holy hell on his taste buds. Bucky coughed for a good 2 minutes straight, attracting the stares of the people at neighboring tables. Sam laughed so hard he had tears pooling in the corners of both his eyes. “I hate you so much, pigeon.” Bucky ground out.

“Man, one day you aren’t going to take the bait.” Sam said as his laughter tapered off.

Bucky glared back as he ripped a piece of white bread in half and shoved it in his mouth. “Fuck you, Wilson, it wasn’t _that_ bad.” Bucky’s red skin and watering eyes trying their hardest to not to cry sent Sam back into a fit of giggles and Bucky gave up and joined him, laughing around the other half of the bread.

“Jeez Barnes, were you raised in one?” Sam snarked at Bucky as he drooled a bit from the laughter not meshing well with his mouth full of bread.

Bucky just glared back and chewed in pouty silence. Sam chuckled and took another leisurely bite of his hot-sauce laden pulled pork, relishing Bucky’s little snort of irritation.

“One day you’re going to feel my pain, Tweety.” Bucky ground out, swallowing his bread and picking up the bottle of brown sugar bbq sauce instead squirting it over the remainder of his food.

Sam just shook his head and snagged a bite of brisket from Bucky’s tray. “The sweet sauce is-” Sam stopped to chew thoughtfully, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Delectable. I like it even better.” 

Bucky couldn’t stop the blush from spreading out over his face at Sam’s remark (hopefully it was hidden by the fact that he had just eaten hot sauce developed by actual demons). He forgot that he was eating and the brisket he was about to eat fell off the end of his fork to go splat against the napkin he had thankfully placed in his lap.

“I knew you were a barbarian, but really, Barnes?” Sam giggled as he stole another bite of Bucky’s brisket. They finished their meals, trading barbs back and forth as usual. When they got up to leave, Bucky was pulled in the opposite direction of the car by a smirking Sam.

“Oh no, we’re not done yet.” Sam said as he pulled on Bucky’s elbow, leading him toward the National Mall. An hour later, Bucky was still unable to articulate exactly how he ended up flat on his ass, cold seeping up his spine. Sam had insisted that this was a thing that people did for fun, but Bucky hadn’t been convinced in the 40s and he wasn’t convinced now. Why would anyone suffer the indignity of flopping around in circles on a sheet of ice in front of complete strangers?

Sam leaned over Bucky’s face, his smiling features glowing softly from the string lights surrounding the large patch of ice. “How are you not good at this? You’re part Russian bear!” 

Bucky snorted and let his head thump back onto the freezing ice. “Why would I need to be able to ice-skate, birdy? Soldiers normally just go in and kill people, no grace, just force. I’m no Widow.”

Sam just smiled and reached down to help pull Bucky back to his feet. “C’mon, Buck, I bet you’d be great if you stopped sticking your ass out so far. You are the most uncoordinated covert-operative in history, I swear.”

Bucky got to his feet wobbling the whole time and, immediately forgetting what Sam had just said, reached out, bending down into an unsteady squat. Bucky felt his skates giving out under him again and he let out an indignant cry. Sam mercifully caught him from behind before he could bruise his hind parts any more than they already were and Bucky decided then and there that there certain activities were just not meant for him and it seemed ice skating was one of them.

Sam seemed to reach the same conclusion and he straightened Bucky up, but didn’t let go of him as he steered the both of them towards the opening along the edge of the rink.

Once he was back on non frozen ground and in his own shoes, Bucky was able to find his balance once more, even though the last little bit in Sam’s arms had been the highlight of his day so far. Bucky’s teeth chattered a bit as he shivered, the damp of his back half reminding him of its presence.

Sam glanced at him, concerned, before winding their arms back together and heading over to a nearby cafe cart. Bucky sighed happily when Sam ordered two large, whipped-cream topped hot chocolates and promptly burnt his tongue trying to take a large sip.

Sam laughed, throwing his head back at Bucky’s ridiculousness. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Bucky scowled And stuck his burning tongue out at Sam as they strolled slowly back to the car. “Life is short, pigeon. Gotta drink it while it’s still warm.”

Sam just smiled fondly at Bucky and grabbed Bucky's drink with his free hand. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away as Sam slowly blew on Bucky’s drink, causing the melting whipped cream to ripple across the cocoa’s surface. The sight of Sam’s lips pursed, cooling down the beverage sent an array of impure thoughts to the forefront of Bucky’s mind and he believed that he might actually pass out when Sam’s tongue darted out to steal a bit of Bucky’s whipped cream.

“Blow tax.” Sam grinned after his thievery and handed the drink back to Bucky looking like the cat who got the proverbial canary.

Bucky knew that his face was flushed and with nothing else to hide behind, he took another drink of his (now cooler, thanks to Sam) chocolate. “Mmm.” he hummed, not sure what to say without embarrassing himself. Sam always made him feel like he was off-balance. At times everything was normal, they were two buddies, often thrown together in some strange circumstances but growing closer because of them. Other rarer times, Bucky thought that they were dancing round the edge of something enormous and terrifying. Bucky, clouded by his feelings for Sam, couldn’t trust himself to view everything objectively and always felt like it was more prudent to err on the side of caution, lest he be wrong and damage their fragile friendship. Bucky didn’t know what he would do with himself if he were to lose the friendship he had with Sam. So deep in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the question Sam had asked him.

“Huh?” He asked, wincing inwardly at his clumsy response.

Sam rolled his eyes at him. “Geez, Cyborg, am I boring you or something?”

“No!” Bucky said quickly, “I was just thinking about how I’m gonna sit down without embarrassing myself after all this falling over. I’m sure my ass is purple by now.”

Sam’s eyes crinkled as he laughed at Bucky’s delicately placed bruises. “Well don’t worry, I’ll see about you as soon as we get home.”

Bucky took another sip to hide his flush, nearly draining the cup in the process. Bucky’s mind immediately went to the gutter and imagining Sam _taking care_ of him (Bucky knew that Sam would know exactly how to do it well, too) may have become noticeable if he didn’t redirect his thoughts to things like the report he and Sam had put off from the waste of time yesterday. 

Sam kept sliding his eyes to catch Bucky’s as they made their way to the car. They threw away their empty cups and slid into Sam’s car, relaxing into the bucket seats. Sam activated the seat warmers and Bucky sent him a grateful smile as it soothed his protesting posterior.

“Thanks.” Bucky wiggled a bit as the heat penetrated his sore muscles, easing some of the dull pain from all of his falls.

“No sweat, Buck.” Sam murmured as he lowered the volume of the radio slightly, a woman’s rich, soulful voice singing to them about taking a long walk.

Bucky let his eyes drift shut as he listened to the music and he began to relax. Sam was still wearing the same cologne he had on yesterday and Bucky liked it even more today and he wished that the night didn’t have to end. That he and Sam could stay just like this, riding around, listening to music, just in each other’s space.

All too soon their ride was over and Bucky quickly pointed out a parking spot near their condo for Sam to claim for the night. They made their way up the sidewalk to their front door, Sam throwing Bucky curious looks the whole time.

Once inside, Sam immediately headed toward his bedroom and Bucky, feeling disappointed again at their day being clearly ‘over,’ shuffled toward his own bedroom. He tossed his shirt in the direction of his hamper and had just stepped out of his jeans when he heard the light knock on his door. He answered it with a questioning look to Sam who just smiled and held up a small bottle of oil.

“I said I’d take care of you, remember?” Sam said as he shook the bottle for emphasis. “Lay down on your stomach.”

Bucky nodded as swallowed nervously, feeling a bit exposed in nothing but his underwear. Sure they frequently walked around the house in their boxers and briefs, but that was in the common areas. That was when they wanted to stretch out across their sectional and just loaf around watching the endless number of true crime documentaries on Netflix. There was something almost terrifyingly intimate about being this close to Sam in such an undressed state, and Sam telling him to lay down was almost guaranteed to send him to an early grave.

Bucky tried not to give away his nervousness in his walk and made it over to the bed without incident. He made to lay down on the edge of the bed with his face in his pillows but Sam reached around and moved one to the center of the bed, prodding Bucky over with it. Bucky nestled his face into the crook of his crossed arms and waited. 

Sam turned on Bucky’s bedside lamp before he moved to the switch on the wall, turning the overhead light off, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. Bucky felt the mattress dip when Sam sat next to his hips followed by the click of the bottle opening. “You ready?” Sam asked softly.

Bucky hummed his assent and wiggled his shoulders, his exposed skin was cooling and he was eager to warm up a bit. Sam poured a bit of oil into his cupped hand before setting the bottle aside and warming the oil with his hands.

Suddenly his hands were on Bucky’s back, tracing long strokes from the base of his spine to his trapezius. The pressure of Sam’s movements wasn’t exactly gentle, but it was exactly what his battered back needed. Bucky couldn’t help the small groan that escaped as Sam changed his movements, digging his knuckles into his back on either side of his spine up and down his back.

Sam was entirely too good at this and Bucky knew that he was done for. He could feel his body responding to the closeness of Sam, both the scent of his cologne and the musk of the massage oil only driving him further in a state of arousal. His cock stiffened awkwardly between his stomach and the mattress and every time Sam pressed down on the small of his back, Bucky had to hold himself back from crying out.

Bucky was having a hard time keeping his traitorous body under his control. It wasn’t like Sam was straddling his back or massaging any particularly erotic area. Sam’s hands didn’t venture any closer to Bucky’s ass than was necessary to address the bruise that had decorated the small of Bucky’s back. He had seen absolutely no indication from Sam that this was a sexual event and Bucky would be damned if he ruined the night with his dick.

Sam ran his thumbs in wide circles across Bucky’s exposed skin, marveling at the fact that his many bruises were already mostly gone thanks to his enhanced healing ability. Bucky barely noticed that his back was no longer particularly sore, as he was focusing all of his attention on not letting Sam know how much his touch was affecting him. Those talented thumbs made their way down Bucky’s back, causing more and more friction and Bucky screwed his eyes shut tightly as he resisted the urge to arch back into the touch.

Sam transitioned back into those languid full back strokes and Bucky realized that he was tensing up and tried to force himself to relax, which given their current activity was both very easy and very difficult, but Bucky managed it. He set his focus on nothing but Sam’s hands and stubbornly ignored the shocks of pleasure radiating from his trapped cock.

Eventually he was boneless again on the bed, completely relaxed, drooling slightly, as Sam went through the entire pattern of movements again but in the reverse order. So relaxed was he, that he fell into a light doze. Unfortunately that was the moment that Sam began kneading those damnable knuckles into his lower back again and Bucky couldn’t help himself. His cock could only take so much and it had clearly reached its limit as he tried not to tense or thrust his hips into the mattress.

Bucky felt Sam’s hands falter for a fraction of a second and his heart dropped into his stomach. The very thing he had been trying to prevent had happened and now he may lose his best friend over it. Sam didn’t recoil in disgust or do much of anything but continue his massage. Bucky forced his body to relax and to breathe deeply and regularly as if he was asleep. He couldn’t have this conversation with Sam now. Not after he came in his underwear from a friendly massage that Sam offered to be helpful since Bucky was a klutz.

“Buck?” Sam asked softly as he lightly ran his fingertips over the back of Bucky’s neck and shoulders. “You asleep?”

Bucky remained silent. He thanked the lucky stars that Sam was giving him this out and letting him have this time before their friendship was permanently altered by the fact that Bucky was completely unable to control his libido anymore. He made no movement or sound to acknowledge Sam and after a minute or so of the light touches, Sam rose off of Bucky's bed and headed for the door.

Bucky let out a sigh and relaxed a bit more the moment Sam left the room. He was glad he didn’t move because suddenly Sam was back with the blanket Bucky always wrapped himself in when they spent the day being lazy. He gently tucked the edges around Bucky before turning out the lamp and leaving Bucky in the warm darkness alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I agree with Bucky's take on ice skating. It is not for me.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky is still oblivious, Sam tries a bit harder, and Sharon has questions.

Bucky was spared the dramatic end to their friendship he was expecting the next morning. He woke at dawn, terrified to move from the comforting warmth of the blanket Sam draped over him the previous night. He strained his ears listening for a sign that Sam was awake for hours until it was well into the morning, past Sam’s usual time to wake up.

Bucky mustered the strength to pick himself up out of bed and peeked his head out into the hallway, but there was still no sign that Sam had left his room. Bucky made his way into their kitchen, intent on grabbing a glass of water and a breakfast bar, when he saw the time on the digital clock on the microwave. The bright green numbers read 11:23 am. Bucky frowned in confusion. He was certainly no morning person, but Sam _was,_ almost relentlessly so. If he was still in his room something was very, very wrong.

Bucky knew that he would never forgive himself for throwing a wrench into their relationship. But he would also not forgive himself if Sam was lying dead in his room after Bucky drove him to a heart attack from his entirely inappropriate response to a friendly backrub. This thought is what brought him to Sam’s closed bedroom door. After an awkward moment of psyching himself up, Bucky tapped on the door, entirely too quietly. He tried again, wincing at the loud noise.

He heard a shuffle inside, as if Sam was still in bed tossing and turning.

“Sam?” Bucky called, nervously through the door.

More shuffling, a little bit faster than before. A slight groan reached Bucky’s ears and Bucky’s heart dropped straight to his feet.

“Sam are you okay?” Bucky called once more.

“Oh--” Sam began before he let out a hacking cough. “Shit. Come in, Barnes.”

Bucky opened the door and peeked inside. Sam was huddled under his comforter looking wretchedly back at him.

“Isn’t this a bitch?” He asked, his voice thick and congested. Sam looked like hell, his face was shiny from the thin layer of sweat covering his brow and his eyes were puffing up. Sam’s mouth was slightly open, as if he was unable to breathe properly.

Bucky’s face softened at Sam’s miserable sounding query. “Oh, pigeon. Don’t you know birds fly south for the winter?”

Sam glared at him, but the effect was diminished by the coughing fit that wracked his broad shoulders. “Figures, the first time we actually get out to enjoy this town, I pick up some gross bug.”

Bucky opened the door fully, making to move closer before Sam raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t think both of us need these cooties.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and continued to sit at the edge of Sam’s bed. “One, You’ve never seen me sick because I don’t get sick. Sketchy-super-serum takes care of all of that. Two, I happen to be really good at taking care of sick Captain Americas. I may even be the best ever at it.”

Sam laughed, although it looked like it physically pained him. “Fair enough. Far be it from me to stop you from your true calling of my personal nurse.” He wrinkled his nose at the dampness of his sheets as he slowly sat up and tossed them and the comforter to the side. “Ugh, I hate being sick, it’s so gross.”

“Yes. You are very gross.” Bucky said as he smelled the stale sweat wafting up from the bedding. “Go shower and I’ll make you something to eat, it’s almost lunch time.”

Sam sighed, but smiled gratefully as he slowly rolled his aching neck and shoulders in a stuttering circle. He got to his feet gingerly, wincing at all of the pops and groans his body produced. “You’re a gift, Barnes.”

Bucky smiled back and as Sam exited the room for the blessed steam of the shower, Bucky grabbed his dirty bedding, dropping the load in the washing machine and starting it. He then made his way into their kitchen, intent on serving Sam up some delicious spicy chicken soup. Unfortunately, they didn’t have anything but a sad can of chicken and wild rice soup, so Sam would have to wait until dinner for the good stuff. Bucky dutifully poured it into a small pot and turned on both that eye and the eye under their battered kettle. 

He went quickly back to Sam’s room, redressing the bed in clean linens and fluffing the sad, smooshed pillows. Hearing the kettle whistle, Bucky hurried back into the kitchen to prepare some hot tea with liberal amounts of honey. Steam rose softly from the pot of soup and he added a generous sprinkling of chili flakes, hoping that it would help ease Sam’s congestion.

The lack of noise from the shower told Bucky that Sam would soon be ready for his lunch, so he gathered everything on the one tray the two owned, adding crackers at the last minute, and carefully carried the whole thing back to Sam’s room where he promptly almost spilled all of the hot liquid all over himself.

Sam stood there, shirtless and damp, clearly having just pulled on some fresh pajama bottoms. Bucky was not prepared for the sight of Sam’s gorgeous muscular back and couldn’t stop the faint blush that might as well have made a permanent home on his cheeks. Sam continued dressing, however, pulling on a faded black hoodie that Bucky belatedly realized was his.

“Got you something to eat, birdbrain.” Bucky said, startling Sam into turning around a tad too quickly.

“Why are you always sneaking around here like some sort of cat burglar?” Sam griped even as he looked longingly at the food.

Bucky laughed. “We don’t have any cats to burgle. Yet.” He looked down at the tray, “Did you want to stay in bed or did you want to move to the couch?”

“Couch, for sure. Netflix is calling me.” Sam trudged down their narrow hallway before collapsing on the couch with a relieved sigh. “I hate having to mouth-breathe. Ugh, this is so gross.”

Bucky set the tray down on the side table next to Sam and left quickly to get some painkillers from their medicine cabinet, returning with cough drops, VapoRub, Mucinex and Tylenol.

Sam laughed. “What do you know about VapoRub?” He grabbed it, immediately rubbing some on his chest under the hoodie. Sam then took his socks off and rubbed some on the bottom of both his feet, then replacing his socks and wiggling his toes.

“Every time you ask me these things I wonder what they teach you kids in school these days.” Bucky retorted fondly. “Although we usually limited it to the chest.”

“My granny swore by VapoRub in the socks for colds and olive oil in the ears for earaches. Who am I to argue with her wisdom?” Sam said before reaching for the still steaming mug of tea. He took a sip, closing his eyes and hummed in satisfaction. “You’re right Buck, you are the best personal nurse any Cap could ask for.”

Bucky grinned back, pleased that Sam was in better spirits. Bucky wasn’t sure if his souped-up heart could take much more of this, but he vowed to enjoy it as long as he could, if it meant these little moments full of Sam’s soft smiles.

* * *

Sam was down for the count almost the entire following week. He finally made it back into the field office Thursday afternoon, and only stayed long enough to grab the various reports and administrative work that could be done from the comfort of their home. Bucky left with him, mostly because he had been bored out of his mind all week and was much more interested in making sure Captain America didn’t catch another cold on his way home than knocking around the new recruits for the umpteenth time.

He was glad he came home with Sam too, since he had, once again, been told to keep his schedule clear on Saturday. It was already clear, but Sam was probably just trying to be nice, so Bucky wouldn’t feel bad that he had no social life. Friday passed by in a blur of laptop screens and conference calls and he was excited as he eventually went to bed, longing to see exactly what sort of fun Sam had planned for them. Bucky hoped that he would wear that cologne again, the scent had been dogging his dreams (and half his waking moments too, to be honest).

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear and Bucky was much more excited than when he went to sleep. He had overheard Sam talking to Sharon about some of the things they were going to be doing and once he heard about the presence of their local humane society he had been on cloud nine. Bucky knew that he had been a bit obvious in his hints that they needed a fluffy monster to share their space with but he wasn’t apologizing, who doesn’t like cats? Bucky sent Sam at least five cat-related messages daily, so he was sure that Sam was finally caving under his sophisticated cat-tack (This. This right here is why Bucky is single, well this, and the fact that Sam hasn’t gotten down on one knee yet).

Sam had even gone as far as sending Bucky a funny video of a man doing voice-overs for cats that very week, so he was much more confident in the likelihood of Sam being swayed by cute kitty faces. Bucky was patient, he would prevail. He had no doubt that there would be a four-legged feline friend joining in on their ridiculous movie marathons in the future. 

All of that was neither here nor there because it was Saturday again and Bucky was counting down the minutes until they headed out to the street festival that Sharon had mentioned in passing earlier that week. It was an all-day event, but Sam was finishing some last minute paperwork which left Bucky twiddling his thumbs impatiently.

After what felt like forever, Sam wandered out into the living room as Bucky was drifting off into a boredom induced doze.

“You sure you’re good to go, man?” He asked, quirking a brow. “We can stay here if you’re tired.”

Bucky hopped up immediately, shaking his head. “You can’t get out of this that easy, pal.”

Sam laughed and Bucky smelled that cologne again and his stomach fluttered with those pesky butterflies again. They made their way to the car and the ride to the festival passed in a blur of Marvin Gaye, concrete and glass.

Sam, with his usual amount of sheer dumb luck, managed to find street parking less than a quarter of a mile from the festivities.

“The parking fairy smiles down on me, as usual.” Sam smirked as they walked. The sounds and smells of the festival got louder and more intense the closer they got. 

There were vendors of all sorts spanning at least five blocks. There were stalls displaying jewelry, art in various media, sumptuous looking snacks, clothing, you name it, and someone was selling it. Bucky even saw a large stage set up although it seemed to be empty at the moment. 

Sam pulled Bucky right into the thick of things. “We have a couple of hours to kill before we meet up with Sharon and Roy.” Sam said as they approached a woman selling canned jams and preserves. He perused them thoughtfully while Bucky’s eye was caught by the stall next to it.

The desserts looked delectable and Bucky was having a hard time deciding between the molasses cookies, the chocolate caramels or the most buttery looking peanut brittle Bucky had seen in far too many years. He was so caught up in candy land that he didn’t even notice Sam sidle up next to him.

“Having a hard time there, Terminator?” Sam asked as he knocked their elbows together.

“There are so many options, I don’t know which one to pick.” Bucky said and was a bit surprised to hear the slight petulance in his voice.

Sam laughed. “It’s a good thing we have a whole kitchen for you to keep food in.”

Bucky broke into a smile at Sam’s good cheer. “You’re right, birdy.” He grabbed a cellophane bag of each of the treats he had been eyeing to hand to the smiling teenager sitting behind the loaded table. “Looks like Cap has spoken.”

Before Bucky could even begin to protest, Sam had already pulled out his wallet and proceeded to pay for Bucky’s sweets. Wanting to save them for later, he left them alone in their plastic bag and they meandered a bit further into the center of activities. A band had apparently found the stage and strangely pleasant new-age funk music drifted through the air.

They browsed the wares, not really getting drawn in until a scent not unlike the one Sam had been wearing recently caught Bucky’s nose and he turned to find it’s origins. Bucky found it immediately, two booths down, with three other people browsing all of the oils, lotions and soaps. He patiently waited until the others had made their purchases to approach the shop owner.

“You look like you could use some assistance.” She said with a wry grin.

Bucky smiled sheepishly, “That obvious, huh?”

Her smile grew. “I have a keen eye. Are you looking for something for yourself? Or perhaps a gift?” Her eyes slid over to Sam haggling two stalls down over a pair of wooden earrings.

“Why not both?” Bucky replied in his most charming voice. 

“Well then, I have a few recommendations.” She began to lay out a line of products across the front of the table, explaining the uses and benefits of each one. Bucky was particularly impressed with the body butters, who knew his skin could feel so soft? He left the stall with a bag full of body butters, oils, and soaps for both himself and Sam, the shopkeeper sending him a knowing glance as he left to go find his wayward falcon. He returned the look with a smile and a promise to plug her products on his twitter, much to her amusement.

He caught up with Sam about a block ahead of him. He gently knocked their shoulders together as he came up beside him, just to catch the tail end of a joke Sam was telling a small group of teenagers. The arrival of Bucky sent them back into a tizzy and Sam and Bucky happily agreed to take photos with the kids.

Once they opened the floodgates, it was another half an hour before they managed to clear the photo and autograph requests and make their way down a less crowded lane. There were some food vendors and Sam ordered the both of them two of the most delicious smoothies Bucky had ever tasted. Bucky’s was a tasty blend of blueberries, raspberries, apples, vanilla and honey and he would never go back to his normal peanut butter and banana blend (although, calling whatever people ate nowadays _bananas_ still stuck in Bucky’s craw).

They were both so good, that Sam suggested that they switch halfway through drinking them. Bucky almost choked as Sam nonchalantly grabbed his smoothie before passing the one he’d been working on over. Bucky didn’t even have time to grab his straw! He was going to have to use Sam’s straw! There would be essence of Sam Wilson going in his mouth and Bucky’s brain promptly shut down with the first sip of Sam’s, now _his_ , smoothie. The pineapple, mango, coconut flavor combo had never been a particularly preferred one, but Bucky thought that it may have just become his new favorite.

Bucky was, thankfully, spared from his brain continuing to leak out of his ears due to Sam’s straw by the faint mewling of kittens. He grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him along with single-minded focus until he found the source of the noise. It led them to a multi-tent pavilion of sorts with several cages full of cats and kittens of various ages.

“Sam!” Bucky cried, too caught up in new-smoothie-plus-kittens-mania to remember that they were in public, and did a happy sort of wiggle. “KITTIES! Kitties everywhere!”

Sam was doubled over laughing at Bucky’s outburst, trying valiantly to catch his breath. “Oh my God, Barnes…” Sam trailed off as laughter took hold of him again.

Bucky didn’t care, he made his way straight to the large cage nearest him where the majority of the mewling was coming from. There were 6 kittens that he could see climbing all over each other and yelling their tiny little lungs out.

Sam finally pulled himself together and came up behind Bucky to inspect the little fuzzy creatures.

“They are cute, I’ll give them that.” Sam murmured, almost causing Bucky to jump out of his skin.

“These guys are adorable, but they’re so young.” Bucky said mournfully, knowing that they were a bit too young for the busy lives that he and Sam led. He wrenched himself away from them and turned to look at the other cages. The older the cats got, the smaller the enclosures became, as there were only one or two animals in each one. 

Bucky stopped in front of a cage containing two 8 month old kittens, one white, with gray ears and paws and the other, a bright orange tabby. Orange was swiping at White’s tail while White seemed to be enjoying a leisurely nap. Bucky chuckled a bit, liking Orange when he suddenly turned and hissed right at Sam’s amused face. White, disturbed by the hissing, bopped Orange on the head and walked right up to Sam, cocking his head at him quizzically before putting it’s little paw through the bars. Bucky had found the one, he thought as he rubbed his fingers over the tiny cat toes. The cat of his dreams. He turned to look at Sam, only to find Sam staring right back at him with a small smile on his face.

“You want this one, don’t you?” Sam asked softly.

“I will literally steal him if I have to.” Bucky said earnestly, making Sam chuckle.

“Him? How do you know your little friend isn’t a she?” Sam asked.

Bucky paused, he had know idea if that cat was a male or female, nor did he care. “He, she, I don’t care, this one belongs with us.”

Sam just grinned and turned around to look for whoever was in charge of adoptions.

“Wait? Just like that?” Bucky asked, causing Sam to turn back toward him. “You’re cool with getting a pet that easy?”

“I mean, I don’t have a problem with cats. You love them. They’re cute. It’s a win for all of us.” Sam replied and Bucky had thought he had fallen in love with Sam before but apparently it was possible to fall even deeper. Sam wandered off, to look for a way to get this guy home with them while Bucky continued playing with White’s paws, while Orange looked on, jealous.

Sam came back dejected. “They’re saying that they stopped doing adoptions at 5:30, they’re packing all these little guys up.” 

Bucky frowned, as White booped his thumb.

“I got her business card, she says we can come in during regular operating hours during the week and scoop him up, don’t worry.” Sam tucked the card into his pocket. “Besides, Sharon texted me, they’re waiting for us down the street.”

Bucky followed Sam out of the tent and towards the outskirts of the festival. They walked another block and found themselves in front of a pub advertising trivia night. Sam led them inside, Bucky still a bit sad that he would have to wait until at least Monday to pick up their cat.

Sharon greeted them warmly as they approached the booth, introducing Roy to everyone as they took their seats. The server appeared promptly, dropping off an answer pad and a handful of golf pencils, and took Sam and Bucky’s drink orders. They were right on time for Trivia and their group, ‘Team America: Fuck Yeah’ quickly took the lead in the first round (mostly thanks to Roy, Bucky is terrible a trivia) and welcomed the 30 minute break to place their food orders.

“Roy, you are killing it! Where did Sharon find you, and can we keep you?” Sam said as the server left their table.

Sharon facepalmed. “Well, Sharon stepped in my dog’s poop. And in order to make it up to her, I asked her out,” Sharon sighed dramatically as he finished the short tale. “I thank my lucky stars every day that I missed that pile.”

Sam and Bucky crowed with laughter, Bucky knowing that Sam was thinking of various nicknames for ‘Poop-shoe Sharon’ to use at headquarters.

“That is absolutely adorable.” Sam said, smiling at the two of them. “ _Much_ better than landing on someone’s car and ripping their steering wheel out on the middle of the highway. Poop washes off, at least.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let that go are you? It’s always ‘you ripped the steering wheel out Bucky, you kicked me off a helicarrier, Bucky, you ruined my wings, Bucky.’” Bucky took a sip of his long island. “What about that time you wouldn’t move your seat up? My legs were cramping in that baby car and did you care? No you didn’t. A man needs his legroom, Sam. It’s in the constitution.”

Sam huffed fondly as he kicked Bucky under the table. “I liked that car. I mean you’re ok, I guess, but the car never did anything to you and you come around and-boom!” Sam clapped his hands together right as their food was dropped.

The second round of trivia began and clearly the other teams had either started googling their answers or called in reinforcements because they were knocked into third place by ‘The Smartinis’ and ‘Yer a Quizard, Harry!’ Bucky and Sharon didn’t much care, but Sam and Roy had a gleam in their eyes as they both claimed that they had to go and strategize about the final round, because losing was not an option anymore. They both got up and headed away from the table, to do who knows what, leaving Bucky and Sharon to fight over the last of the loaded tater tots.

They each have one last bite before Sharon immediately leaned forward to stare at Bucky expectantly.

“What? Is there something in my teeth? Sam never tells me, he just lets me walk around all day looking crazy.” Bucky said as he ran his tongue back and forth over his teeth trying to feel any foreign objects.

“Your teeth are fine, tell me everything!” She gushed.

“There is this kitten, and Sam says we can get him! Or her, I don’t actually know, but we’re going on Monday, because the woman at the tent insisted that they weren’t doing anymore adoptions today.” Bucky said, thinking back to his soon-to-be kitty bff.

Sharon’s face softened and she sighed happily. “I’m so happy for you guys. So the dates have been good?”

Bucky stared at her strangely. “Dates?”

It’s Sharon’s turn to look at Bucky like he’s grown another head. “Wait a minute--” She began, but was interrupted by Sam setting a tray of shots and lime slices down on the table.

“There’s no way to lose with tequila on our side!” He cried, a touch loudly.

“Did you lose Roy?” Sharon asked Sam drily.

Sam shook his head, “He hit the little boys room, don’t worry your little head.”

Roy slid into the booth a moment later and they made short work of the drinks Sam procured for everyone. The tequila most certainly did not help their brain power and Sam glared churlishly at the celebrating winners, ‘The Smartinis.’

“It’s not even that good of a pun,” Sam grumbled under his breath as they stood up to call it a night. Realizing that they were in no position to drive, Sam and Sharon quickly pull out their phones and requested two rideshares. Roy had wandered off to the side of the restaurant and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Bucky, not as drunk as everyone else, was still pleasantly buzzed as he ambled over to bum one.

“Mind if I snag one?” He asked Roy quietly.

Roy obliged him and they leaned back against the building, letting the smoke waft around them. Sam didn’t really like it when Bucky smoked, but he did it so sporadically that he didn’t have much to complain about. Sharon had said 'dates' and Bucky was still trying to puzzle out why. His brain was having trouble staying focused in the chilly autumn air, so he smoked instead, and let his mind wander.

They weren’t too far away from Sam and Sharon, but Bucky could overhear snatches of their conversation, their voices washing over him until he heard his name and his enhanced ears automatically honed in.

“Bucky’s clearly trying to let me down easy, poopy-boots. It may be time to just bow out gracefully.” Sam’s voice shot through him like a jolt. _Him_? Let down _Sam_? Something had gone _very_ wrong in the universe if that's what Sam thought.

“If that’s truly what you think is best, Sam, but I really think you should just talk to him. I don’t think he-”

“Just...Don’t.” Sam said, despondently. “Not tonight, at least.”

Bucky heard nothing else from them until Sharon called both their names a moment later. Bucky slipped into the back of a normal-looking sedan after a silent Sam and they spent the entire ride home in a restless silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Bucky...Why are you like this? Now Sam is sad, and no one wants a sad Sam.


	4. plus one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is determined to make things right...if only Sam would cooperate.

Bucky felt like such an ass. Of course Sam wasn’t fucking with him. He had the balls to do what Bucky wouldn’t in a million years do, put himself out there to be hurt. Knowing that his window with Sam was almost closed, Bucky couldn’t even think about sleep. He laid in his bed for lack of any better place to come up with a plan to re-woo Sam.

Bucky dragged his flesh palm down his face for the fifth time that ungodly hour. He can’t believe he didn’t realize. The cologne, the little cafe that screamed _date spot_ , the night-time ice skating with all the fairy lights, the _massage_. Bucky wanted to tug at his hair and scream at his utter obliviousness. He’d deserve it if Sam never spoke to his stupid self ever again. 

The time spent pining could’ve been spent together and Bucky would never forgive himself if he let Sam slip through his fingers. Sam was his best friend and he’d be damned if they didn’t end up some old gross married couple in several years. Bucky’s ma had always said to marry your best friend and Bucky hadn’t understood what she meant because _before_ his best friend was Steve. Well, he thought Steve had been his best friend. He knew better now, Steve was his brother. Sam was his best friend. He was the one Bucky wanted to spend his bad days with. He was the one who saw every bit that made him up, sharp edges and all, and didn’t try to rearrange them, Sam just accepted the whole of him entirely. Bucky wanted to spend forever letting Sam know how much Bucky loved and cherished him.

Bucky’s thoughts stayed focused on Sam until his room brightened as the night turned into morning. Bucky still had no idea what to do for Sam. It didn’t seem right to just knock on his door after he managed to misinterpret Sam’s intentions for so long. No, Bucky needed a grand gesture, like in those ridiculous rom-coms that Sam made him watch when he was in a particular mood. Although knowing what Bucky does now, he wondered if those were some sort of guide to how Sam wanted to be wooed.

Bucky could work with that, in fact, this had the makings of one of the terrible ones on the Lifetime, where the characters were so unbelievably obtuse that it strained plausibility. Well, Bucky would never call any of them idiots again, assuming he and Sam cuddled up (properly this time, none of the feet under the others’ thighs ‘for warmth’ that Bucky thought he was getting away with) to watch anymore of those melodramatic misadventures. Knowing that it was morning, and that Sam is a morning person, Bucky could at least start with breakfast in bed, right? That seemed to be a persistent display of affection.

Bucky got up from his bed, much earlier than he would on a normal Sunday to go scope out the contents of their refrigerator. It was, unfortunately, almost barren since Sunday was normally when they stocked up for the week. Not one to be deterred, Bucky decided to kill two birds with one stone. He’d go get Sam’s car from where they left it last night, do the shopping, then come home and make a giant stack of pancakes that they could split.

Armed with that thought, Bucky quickly called himself an Uber, grabbed the keys and was soon riding back to Sam’s car. He found the car undisturbed, and it was early enough in the day that there wasn’t a ticket on the windshield for parking overnight. Bucky counted this as a win and drove to the supermarket, intent on getting enough to make pancakes and enough food to keep them alive for the next week. Satisfied that he had a solid plan, Bucky drove back to their townhouse in much better spirits.

It was mid-morning and as Bucky brought all of the bagged groceries inside, he noted that there wasn’t any sign indicating that Sam had been up and about at all yet. Knowing that it was way past the usual time for Sam to get up (even on a weekend), Bucky began to worry again. What if he was sick again somehow? Bucky didn’t think that pancakes would be the best breakfast for a sick person so he decided that he’d better check on Sam before starting them.

He made his way slowly to Sam’s closed door apprehensively. Sam being ill two weekends in a row was highly unlikely and Bucky didn’t want this to be exactly what he thought it was, Sam spending the rest of the day holed up in his room avoiding Bucky’s absurd obliviousness.

He tapped lightly on Sam’s door twice, receiving only silence as a response.

“Sam?” He tried, and he heard Sam fidget slightly under his comforter. “You’re not in there coughing up another lung are you?” Bucky didn’t get a response and his stomach sank down to his toes. There were faint sounds of movement, but no coughs or sneezes or groans indicating that Sam was inapacitated. “I was, uh, I was thinking about making some pancakes, if you wanted some.” Bucky cringed inwardly at his delivery, it sure didn’t scream seduction and romance.

A bit more shuffling around before Bucky heard a quiet, “I’m good, man. Thanks though.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, he was blowing this big time. Sam seemed committed to spending Sunday with as many closed doors between them as possible and that just wouldn’t do. He wasn’t quite ready to give up on his grand romantic gesture so he retreated to the living room to rework his plan of wooing Sam.

As he slumped against the cushions, his mind refused to cooperate with him, going off in so many directions that he couldn’t focus on a single idea. He stubbornly pushed down the ‘ _Just Tell Him, Dumbass_ ’ option to the bottom of the haphazard pile of ideas to be used only if nothing else worked. His inner voice, sounding suspiciously like Sharon, snorted a small illusory huff of laughter. While Bucky didn’t appreciate his own mind laughing at him, he appreciated that it reminded him that he had a small network of people he could enlist help from and Sharon seemed like a perfect starting point.

**JB Barnes** : sharon i need u

 **JB Barnes** : emergency 🚨🚨🚨 911 911 911 🚓🚒🚑

He stared at the screen, holding his breath until the small blinking text bubble appeared indicating that Sharon was responding to his message

**S Carter** : I am not the police, fire department or ambulance dispatch, Barnes. What?

**JB Barnes** : ull always b a cop 2 me sharebear

 **JB Barnes** : neway i need ur help its important

**S Carter** : What do you want, Sucky? Some of us have hangovers to get over. Are you sure this isn’t a Monday problem?

Bucky bit his lip, Sam did have a lot of tequila last night. Maybe he wasn’t necessarily avoiding Bucky as he was avoiding the entire world. This thought soothed Bucky a tiny bit, but now his whole romantic plan was in jeopardy. No one liked doing all that extra shit when they were just trying to keep their insides on the inside and the world spinning at an appropriate speed.

**JB Barnes** : pigeon wont leave his room or let me make him pancakes n rock his world

 **JB Barnes** : now that i know this is a requited option i would very much like 2 get this show started

**S Carter** : If Sam doesn’t thump you for bothering him, I will. I feel like death warmed over and I refuse to leave my bed for anything not covered in cheese grease or bacon. Preferably all three. We aren’t all shot up with illegal compounds letting us drink all the tequila in the bar

**JB Barnes** : so ur saying 2 turn myself n2 loaded tots n just barge n2 his room

 **JB Barnes** : bc i did just get groceries but i 4got green onions

**S Carter** : I’m sure he’ll be ready for whatever weird food fantasy you have going on after his brain stops trying to escape his skull. And I will thoroughly enjoy hearing every detail from both of you 

**JB Barnes** : so yes 2 the tots

 **JB Barnes** : bc that seems like a lot

**S Carter** : 😐

 **S Carter** : How does your brain work that you jump from ‘what dates?’ to turning yourself into an actual snack?

**JB Barnes** : its called precocious duh

**S Carter** : That is...not what that means. At all😑. I’m going back to sleep. Bye.

 **S Carter** : Details TOMORROW, Sucky. Have fun getting cheese out of wherever your planning on putting it 😜

Bucky snorted to himself, Sharon had another thing coming if she thought Bucky was going to kiss and tell. On Monday at least. He was a gentleman, he’d hold onto the details until at least midweek.

**JB Barnes** : u get nothing

 **JB Barnes** : u lose 

**JB Barnes** : good day maam

Bucky smiled to himself and set his phone down on his chest as he sprawled out on the couch, for once, he was the morning person in their flat. Not knowing whether or not Sam was awake or trying to sleep off the worst of his hangover, Bucky figured that liquids and ibuprofen were always a good bet, so he left the tray with a glass of water, a bottle of gatorade, a few pain pills and a small sleeve of crackers next to Sam’s door, texting him to let him know just in case he was sleeping.

**JB Barnes** : i know ur sad regular ass body isnt as efficient as mine so i left u some sustenance at ur door

 **JB Barnes** : feel better birdy

Bucky didn’t want to stare at his phone waiting for a reply, so he figured he’d be useful and try to be productive during his unexpected alone time. He put away all the dishes in the dishwasher, swept the kitchen, folded the blankets thrown over the sofa and picked up the various pieces of clothing that he found in random places (studiously ignoring that 95% of the clutter was his doing). He ran a load of laundry and folded what was in the dryer, putting his clothes away and leaving the basket opposite the tray in front of Sam’s door.

Bucky, who had run out of small tasks for the time being, decided that he’d earned a guilty pleasure. He flopped back on the couch, enjoying the way Sam’s scent lingered on the cushions on the left side. He grabbed the remote and scrolled through his list on Netflix, briefly going back and forth between more Supernatural or Gilmore Girls when his eye was caught by something called The Floor is Lava and he just couldn’t believe the things that made it to production these days.

He watched several families and groups of friends and coworkers try to make their way across some surprisingly creative rooms in order to win a little chunk of change. By the second episode, Bucky was wondering if he, Sam and Sharon were even eligible to be on these sorts of shows and if so, how they could sign up. The ridiculousness of the premise quickly faded as Bucky’s inner competitor latched on to the idea that his team would mop the floor with every one of these amateur groups. While entertaining, the show was a bit repetitive, so Bucky slipped into a slight doze, so he was caught unawares when Netflix hit him with the ‘Are you still watching’ pop up when he opened his eyes, blinking owlishly. 

Blinking the orange slime haze from his eyes, Bucky craned his neck to look down their hallway to check on whether or not Sam had retrieved the meager breakfast offering Bucky had left at his door. The tray was there, but it had been emptied and Bucky smiled to himself, glad that Sam was at least hydrating himself. 

Bucky frowned as he saw the time on the TV screensaver. Sam needed more than crackers or else he’d feel worse for longer. He got up and retrieved the tray, putting the dishes in the dishwasher as he thought of his next steps. Clearly Sam wasn’t going to leave his room for anything less than cheesy goodness as Sharon said.

**JB Barnes** : sammyyyyyyy

Bucky waited for Sam’s response for a minute before sending another text.

**JB Barnes** : sammy im not gna stop

 **JB Barnes** : u gotta eat real food

Sam continued to ignore him, so Bucky knew the big guns were necessary.

**JB Barnes** : well ok then

 **JB Barnes** : im going 2 gumbys

 **JB Barnes** : and not getting a 2go box

Bucky smiled to himself counting down until Sam responded, no way could he resist his favorite pizza joint.

**S Wilson** : 😡

Bucky smiled, _success!_

  
  


**JB Barnes** : leaving in 10 birdy

Bucky went to go put his hoodie back on as he waited for Sam to drag himself out of bed. He heard the telltale sounds of muffled cursing and smirked to himself as he sat back down on the couch.

Sure enough, a grumbling Sam made his way down the hallway a few minutes later.

“Real nice, making a hurting man get out of his nice, warm bed.” Sam muttered in a sleep-rough voice.

Bucky laughed, “Some fresh air will do you good, pigeon.”

Sam glared at him and stomped to go put his shoes on. Bucky followed, grabbing the car keys and then they were out the door into the brisk sunny afternoon. Bucky took an exaggerated deep breath. 

“See, Sammy?” He asked with a shit-eating grin on his face as Sam seemed to brighten up and stand a little straighter once outdoors.

“I don’t see shit, cyborg.” He said, trying to hide the smile upon noticing that Bucky had rescued his car from possibly being towed. “Gumby's or I’m going back inside.”

“Bossy.” Bucky replied, even as he hurried over to the car before Sam did something ridiculous like insist on driving.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sam asked, raising a brow at Bucky lowering himself in the driver’s seat.

“Going to Gumby's.” Bucky said in the flattest tone he could muster, staring directly at Sam.

Sam stood at the door and Bucky could see him debating on arguing for argument's sake before he finally turned and made his way to the passenger’s seat. 

“Don’t get used to it, Barnes.” Sam cut his eyes at Bucky before settling in dramatically and closing his eyes and motioning for Bucky to hurry up. “Chop chop.”

Bucky huffed in mock irritation and pulled into traffic. They rode in silence for a few minutes before Bucky reached toward the radio. His hand was slapped away just before he could touch the volume knob.

“Now you and I both know _that_ will never happen.” Sam said without opening his eyes. “No touchy.” Sam selected the third disc in the changer and they were soon enveloped in a cloud of Curtis Mayfield.

Leaning back into the bucket seat, Bucky’s smirk only grew. “Jokes on you, that’s the one I was gonna go with anyway.”

Sam snorted, “Whatever you say--”

Bucky risked a quick glance at Sam as he started loudly singing along to _Pusherman_. Sam looked torn between amusement that Bucky actually knew the words and horrified at Bucky’s butchering of the vocals.

“I just guess, but Curtis did _not_ die for you to sing his song like that. Watch and learn.” Sam cleared his throat theatrically and began singing in a decent falsetto, but his voice soon cracked sending Bucky into a fit of laughter.

“A _real_ masterclass.” Bucky laughed as he pulled into the parking spot directly in front of Gumby's.

“Oh, fuck you, Mr. Robot.” Sam said as gingerly he climbed out of the car and hurried inside the restaurant.

They slid into the hard plastic booth next to the window that they’d been led to by an exceptionally perky teenager.

“Hi, I’m Kelly and I’ll be taking care of you two this afternoon. Can I start you super-dudes off with something delicious to drink?” She asked with a large smile.

“Two Sprite’s please.” Bucky answered, laughing. “And can we get an extra large stoner pie with some medium pokey stix on the side?”

“It’s that kinda day, huh?” She asked with a look of concern as she took their order.

“You have no idea.” Sam said with a tired grin.

“Alrighty! I’ll be right back with your drinks.” Smiling, she grabbed their menus and headed toward the registers.

Sam leaned back against the plastic and stared at Bucky thoughtfully. “I can’t believe you’d threaten to not bring me pizza. That’s cold.”

“I had to get you up somehow.” Bucky shrugged. “If that didn’t work I would have just knocked your door down.”

“A man can’t spend a lazy day in bed in peace?” Sam asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Bucky coughed as his brain was flooded with images of he and Sam spending days in bed and whether what he was imagining could be considered ‘lazy’ due to the dizzying number of positions they could get into.

Luckily their server allowed him a few seconds to collect himself as she dropped off their drinks.

Bucky didn’t even open his straw; he just gulped a large mouthful, wincing as it burned going down his throat.

“I mean, wouldn’t you rather hang out with me instead?” Bucky rasped, managing to stifle the cough brought on by the lemon lime soda.

Sam looked at him oddly as he fiddled with his straw wrapper. His features eventually smoothed out into a small smile. “Yeah, Buck, I would.”

“I’m glad.” Bucky knew that he was turning as red as the booth he was currently sitting in, but he didn’t care. Sam was still willing to give him a chance even though he’d been a gigantic idiot for the past two weeks. Bucky didn’t know what else to say, his brain empty, usual, of anything flirtatious, so he took another large sip of his drink.

Sam continued to just stare at him until Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. “So, are you feeling better now that we’re out in the fresh air of the world?”

The pensive furrow in Sam’s brow seemed to be a permanent fixture at this point and Bucky wanted to reach over and smooth it out with either his tongue or his thumb, and that was probably not the best move so he refrained from any touch at all.

“It’s certainly an improvement from when I woke up.” Sam said as he dropped his head to the side to lean on the cool glass. “I am giving up tequila, officially.”

Bucky snorted, knowing that Sam would never keep that promise, he’d made at least two other similar pledges after similar nights of overindulgence. “I’m sure Jim and Jack will miss Jose as much as you will.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Sam replied, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the soothing crispness of the glass against his throbbing head. “All three of them can go at this point. Team sober Sam for life because this shit is getting old.”

“Aw, poor Sammy.” Bucky grinned, “This is a natural part of the aging process-” Bucky sputtered as he was hit in the face with Sam’s wayward straw wrapper.

“I will not sit here and listen to you tell me about aging, you cyborg! How often do you wake up with your feet already hurting, hm?” Sam asked with a tilt of his head in Bucky’s direction. At his lack of response, Sam nodded in triumph. “Exactly. You and your little enhanced ass are entirely unqualified for the AARP card you love so much.”

Bucky snorted at that. “Whatever, you don’t say no when we get 10 percent off at the grocery store and the movies and the-”

“Ok, Ok, I get it, grandpa, damn!” Sam interrupted, laughing.

Their server approached with their cheesy bread, setting it and a small pizza stand on the table. “Your pizza will be out in just a second, boys!” She chirped. “And I’ll be back with some drink refills!”

Sam looked at the pokey stix with such a look of longing and grabbed one immediately, wincing as the hot cheese burnt his fingers. He set the breadstick down with a small pout and glared at it.

“Those stix have no business being that hot.” Bucky scolded as he fanned over the steaming pan of food. “Bad cheese.”

“It hurts me to agree with you but it also hurts me to call cheese bad. I hate you.” Sam lamented.

Seeing that Kelly was approaching with their pizza, Bucky pushed the offending cheese bread further toward the window to make room for the absolutely sinful looking twenty-inch pie covered in cheese, bacon, french fries, pepperoni, and mozzarella sticks.

“Here you go, guys!” She said as she set the metal pan on top of the pizza stand. She then topped off their sprites and smiled at the both of them. “Enjoy it and I hope it makes your day just that much brighter!”

Sam returned her smile cheerfully. “My day is already brightening, thank you.”

Bucky snorted, but also thanked her as she left them to their food. Unlike Sam, Bucky didn’t have to worry about the cheese burning his fingers, so he immediately grabbed a slice with his left arm only for Sam to make a choked noise at the long strings of cheese that refused to detach from the main pizza as Bucky blew on his slice.

A stray french fry dangled precariously on the edge of the slice and it would have met the questionable surface of the table if not for Sam’s quick reflexes. He munched happily on the fry as he decided to wait to grab a slice for himself instead of melting off another layer of his fingertips.

Bucky had no such compunctions and immediately bit into the gooey pizza. For a split second, everything was fine, and then the roof of his mouth let him know what a bad decision he’d just made. He whined as he opened his mouth and let out a series of shallow breaths trying to cool the pizza down.

Sam was almost in tears, he was laughing so hard. “We literally _just_ went through this, man. _How_?”

Their table, as usual, had attracted the stares of the other two tables, and Sam laughed even harder. Bucky was finally able to swallow the bite of pizza and plucked an ice cube out of his drink and popped it into his mouth with a pout.

“Not another word, Tweety.” Bucky said as he leaned back in the booth, “This is my character flaw and admitting it is the first step to recovery.”

Sam shook his head, finally going back to his now comfortably wam cheese bread.

“What’s that saying about old dogs and new tricks?” Sam asked, grinning.

“So _now_ I’m old again?” Bucky blew over the rest of his sad slice of pizza.

Sam shrugged, “I don't make the rules, my guy. You’re older than sliced bread.”

“I still don’t get why people can’t just slice their own loaves, it’s not some modern miracle of science.” Bucky grumbled as he tried a much smaller bite.

Sam had no real retort to that so he grabbed another french fry off of the slice nearest him. “You...are actually correct.” Sam conceded as he nabbed another fry.

“Don’t sound so shocked.” Bucky teased as he set the crust back on the tray as he was done. Sam let out a small pained noise around his mouthful of cheesy goodness.

Bucky smirked, Sam’s quirk about pizza crusts always amused him ever since Sam had discovered that Bucky didn’t eat them. As far as he could see, he was eating the pizza for the toppings, so what was the point of the crust except as a glorified pizza handle? Sam had disagreed vehemently stating that it was the best part, who in their right mind doesn’t love a good crust? They had not yet found a middle ground although Bucky didn’t much care what Sam did with his pizza handles, it seemed to personally offend him every time Bucky left a pile of crusts on his plate.

Since Sam hadn’t eaten anything but crackers and Bucky had forgotten to feed himself they made quick work of both the pizza and the cheese bread bickering good naturedly the whole time. Their easy camaraderie was almost back, but Bucky wanted a tad more than simple friendship and the day was winding down. 

As they approached the register to pay for their meal, Bucky wasn’t ready to go home. He didn’t want to give Sam an excuse to hole up in his room again. Bucky knew that two doors down there was a pet store and he got a great idea as he took his wallet out of his pocket.

“Sammy,” He said suddenly as he collected his receipt and card. “Let’s go get the kitty stuff.”

Sam snorted, “I’m not going to back out of getting the cat, man, you don’t have to get the stuff to hold me to it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, confused. “I didn’t think you were gonna back out, weirdo, but there’s a pet store right here and we have pants on.”

“Why am I not surprised--” Sam cut himself off as he rolled his eyes and gestured for Bucky to lead the way. “Since we have _pants_ on and all.”

_It worked!_ Bucky cheered inwardly as they walked into the store and grabbed a shopping cart. They followed the signs to the cat section where Bucky perused the food options with a furrowed brow. He was debating between two wet options, so lost in thought that he didn’t see Sam lob a catnip filled stuffed mouse at him.

Bucky turned around, rubbing the back of his head before bending down to retrieve the thing. “So now we’re launching missiles?” Bucky asked in a mock-stern voice. “What would your adoring fans think?”

“That the element of surprise should always be on your side.” Sam retorted and tossed another cat toy into the cart along with a laser pointer.

Bucky chuckled a bit, tossing a box containing multiple cans of food in their cart next to the dry kibble. Pushing their cart into the next aisle, Bucky looked at the insane number of litter boxes and accessory choices. Sam pointed out a nice covered one that had a faux plant on top and wouldn’t look horrible in their living room. Sam could see Bucky about to take another 10 minutes to debate the merits of each different brand of litter and picked one to head him off.

Bucky raised a questioning brow.

Sam shrugged. “This is the kind Sarah gets for her cat.”

Bucky was about to reply when he heard a soft mewling. Abandoning their cart he quickly walked toward the sound and was greeted to several kittens and cats in a large glassed in enclosure. He just barely held himself from pressing his face up to the glass but he took in all of the small furry animals before his eye was caught by a familiar flash of white.

There, on the left side of the enclosure, was the kitten that Bucky had fallen in love with the previous day. He heard Sam approaching with their cart full of goodies for the very cat he was staring at.

“Well isn’t this a coincidence?” Sam asked as he followed Bucky’s gaze to the softly snoozing kitten.

Bucky turned to Sam with the most pitiful looking puppy-dog eyes. “C’Mon Sammy, we’ve already got all of her stuff.”

Sam smiled softly at Bucky, “It does seem to be a sign that this is our cat.”

They were interrupted by the kittens all mewing and scattering when a staff member entered the area with a bag of treats. After making sure each of them got one, he turned to Sam and Bucky and smiled in greeting. He exited the enclosure and stood in front of the two of them expectantly.

“Hello, I’m Gary! Are you interested in the cats?” He asked.

Bucky nodded emphatically pointing at the little white-furred rascal. “Enthusiastically interested.”

Sam and Gary shared a small chuckle at his excitement.

“I’m Sam, and this is Bucky.” Sam said, jerking his thumb in Bucky’s direction.

“What can I do for our illustrious Captain America and the legendary Sergeant Barnes today?”

“We saw that little guy yesterday at your tent at the festival yesterday but you guys were packing up for the day.” Bucky grinned gesturing again at their little friend. “We were going to stop by the Humane Society tomorrow to pick him up, but it looks like I’m getting my little buddy a day early.”

“It certainly does. Since you already know which one you want, I’ll go and get the adoption application.” Gary smiled and turned to walk toward the back of the store, “Great choice by the way, Alpine is a very playful little guy.”

_Alpine_ , Bucky mouthed at Sam with what he knew was a gooey look on his face.

Sam just snorted as Gary disappeared around a corner. “You’re just completely smitten aren't you?”

Bucky didn’t try to deny it, knowing that he was head over heels for both Sam and the little cat that was about to join their little household. His mouth curved into a content smile as he looked into Sam’s eyes. “I just might be, birdy.” 

Sam’s brow rose and he opened his mouth, no doubt to ask Bucky _exactly_ what he meant by that, but before he could get the words out, Gary was back with their application and a small cardboard carrier. Bucky frowned at the disposable box, thinking that they should probably get a real one and when he turned to Sam to point this out Sam agreed.

“Shoo, go get the rest of the stuff, I’ll do the paperwork.” Sam said, taking the clipboard from Gary.

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice and he took the cart around the store, grabbing a carrier, some catnip, three containers of treats, a few more toys, a scratching post and the plushest looking bed he could find. The cart was overflowing and Bucky wondered if Sam would think he went a bit overboard.

His heart caught in his mouth as he saw Gary hand Sam the wiggling kitten. Sam curled his arm around Alpine’s back legs, making sure he was supporting all of the little guy before he turned to Bucky.

“Good timing, he’s officially ours after we pay up front.” Sam said with a smile.

Bucky reached out to scratch under Alpine’s chin, pleasantly surprised when he could feel the faint vibrations indicating that he was purring.

“Best weekend ever.” Bucky said as he dragged his eyes from Alpine up to Sam.

“It was pretty nice, wasn’t it?” Sam asked, absentmindedly stroking behind the cat’s ears.

Gary offered to put Alpine in the cardboard carrier to make driving him home easier, but Sam and Bucky declined opting to hold him themselves.

A few minutes more and they were heading back to the car, Bucky nuzzling Alpine the entire way as Sam looked on fondly. Sam didn’t have to fight Bucky at all for the driver’s seat, as he was completely content letting Alpine climb all over him in the comfort of the passenger's seat.

Bucky stared down at the kitten curled up in his lap as Sam merged into traffic, extra careful not to wake their surprisingly chill pet.

“I had a really good time today, Sammy, I hope you did too.” Bucky said softly, lightly rubbing at Alpine’s back as Sam pulled up to the curb outside their townhouse. He glanced at Sam through his eyelashes, admiring the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating Sam’s face through the glass.

“I always have a good time with you, Buck.” Sam said, leaning back and loosening his grip on the steering wheel. He wasn’t quite looking at Bucky and that would not do. Carefully, so as not to jostle the slightly snoring kitten, Bucky reached out to rest his hand lightly on Sam’s shoulder. Sam whipped his head toward Bucky, starting at the feel of vibranium on his skin as Bucky slowly slid his fingers across the back of Sam’s neck and drew him in closer.

Sam’s lips parted slightly and Bucky nearly had a stroke right there. Fortunately that urge was replaced by complete and utter elation, because Sam’s lips were touching his lips and that meant that everything was right in the world. It felt like forever but it could only have been a few seconds and Bucky was convinced that he had reached the highlight of his one hundred and six years of life.

A small meow drew both of their attention as Alpine had woken up and was ready to explore his surroundings at last.

Sam snickered at the little guy. “I guess he has somewhere to be.” Sam’s eyes promised a great many wicked things even as he leaned back and exited the car. Bucky gathered Alpine up in the crook of his arm and helped Sam get all of the supplies inside with only one trip. A great weekend indeed, he thought as he gently kicked the front door shut behind him and carefully set down the newest member of the family, and he couldn’t wait for the rest of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Human disaster Bucky is my new jam. The way he texts irks me so very much.

**Author's Note:**

> Due to my stupid amounts of geographic research (it never occurs to me until halfway through my google maps adventures that I can just make stuff up) I now must visit my bff in DC once this lockdown is over and actually visit these places (ESPECIALLY THE BARBIE POND AND THE COMMISSARY). All of these places actually exist in DC. Also the Barbie pond has a very entertaining Instagram page you can check out if you aren’t local!


End file.
